He's Not Heavy He's My Cousin
by chill13
Summary: After eating a Myposian dinner Larry wakes up with terrible stomach pains, and it turns out to be much more serious than simple indigestion. Can Balki manage in the new and frightening environment of an American hospital?
1. Chapter 1

**He's Not Heavy. He's My Cousin**

**Chapter 1  
**

Balki's eyes opened slowly, the visions of a good dream quickly fading from his mind. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. His room was still. Everything was quiet. So why was he awake? He rolled over to look at the clock on his nightstand: 2:00 AM. He frowned slightly. He was a very sound sleeper and never woke up this early on his own.

A low, pained moan echoed through the open bedroom door. That, he realized instantly, was what had awakened him. With a pang of worry he threw the covers off and padded across to Larry's room and carefully opened the door a crack. An eerie glow from the streetlights filtered in through the curtains, illuminating the room just enough for Balki to see. Larry was laying on his side with both arms wrapped tightly around his stomach. The covers lay in a jumbled mess on the other side of the bed.

"Cousin, are you alright?" He asked quietly, knowing instinctively that he wasn't.

The answer was a long time in coming. When it did come it was pained and through clenched teeth. "I'm fine. Go back to bed."

Ignoring the order, Balki moved to the bed and bent down next to Larry. "You're in pain. What's wrong?" Now that he was closer he could see that his friend was sweating profusely, his curly hair plastered to the side of his face. "Oh, po po, Cousin! You look awful!"

"Thank you." Larry mumbled sarcastically.

Balki brushed a lock of damp hair away from his cousin's eyes. "You got a stomach ache, hoh?"

"Yes, _yes_, I have a stomach ache!" He shouted, and then let out a pained whimper, realizing instantly that raising his voice was not a good idea.

Balki winced in sympathy. "I get you some Tums." He stood and started for the door.

"No, wait."

Balki stopped and kneeled down so he could talk to his cousin at eye level. "What you want me to do?"

"Balki," Larry continued more quietly, his face still contorted in a tight grimace. "What was _in_ the Mok Bokk Tokki?"

"I thought you don't want to know."

Balki's mother had sent him several new recipes and for weeks he had been begging Larry to try them. Having had enough of his cousin's constant nagging he had finally given in on two conditions. 1. He wasn't obligated to take more than one bite and, 2. Balki was forbidden to tell him the ingredients. Larry had been pleasantly surprised by one dish Balki had called Mok Bokk Tokki. So much so that he had eaten a whole plate of the stuff.

"Well I changed my mind. The way I'm feeling it may be a matter of life or death."

Balki's jaw dropped in indignation. "That not what make you sick! There's nothing in there but pickled chicken tongue, chopped goat kidney and a little garlic."

Larry's face turned slightly green and he let out another groan. The intense pain was already making him nauseous and dizzy and the revelation that he had eaten chicken tongue certainly didn't help. "I should have known!"

"It couldn't have been the Mok Bokk Tokki!" Balki insisted, the very idea of causing his cousin so much pain made him want to cry. "My family have it every Wednesday night. And nobody ever get sick."

"Yes, well, the Myposian stomach is made of steel." Larry continued to argue, hoping the conversation would somehow divert his mind from the pain. It wasn't working very well. "You could eat the slime in the garbage disposal and not get sick. But the rest of the world has limits! And pickled chicken tongue is _way_ past the..." He suddenly let out a sharp cry, startling Balki, and clutched at his stomach where an explosion of pain seized his senses. After a couple of seconds it lessened somewhat and he relaxed slightly, breathing hard.

Balki stroked his cousin's face gently for a moment trying desperately to soothe his cousin's hurt. He suddenly frowned, then took his palm and placed it across Larry's forehead. His eye's widened in alarm. "Cousin, you feel like you've got a forest fire in your head! I get the thermometer." He leaped up and hurried out the door. Upon returning he carried a thermometer, a wet rag and a bottle of Tums. After setting the bottle on the nightstand he switched on the lamp and stuffed the thermometer in Larry's mouth.

Larry removed it immediately. "Balki, you don't have to baby me. Go back to bed. Its just indigestion. I'll get over...ow ow OW!"

Balki took the thermometer from him and again placed it in Larry's mouth. "I'm not going to bed until you feel better." His voice was soft but determined as he gently ran the damp rag over his cousin's face. Larry closed his eyes and breathed a little slower, the cool caress seemed to calm him. "I couldn't sleep knowing you were in here hurting all by yourself."

After a couple of minutes he removed the thermometer. His eyes grew wide at the reading. "Cousin, you've got a fever. I think maybe we should go to the hospital."

Larry shook his head insistently. "No, Balki. I'll be just fine." In an effort to prove his statement he pushed himself up so he was sitting on the edge of the bed. His body protested the upright position by making the world spin wildly. After a couple of seconds it leveled out to just a sickening rocking sensation. "I'm not going to rack up a hospital bill over indigestion!" With that he stood up. The movement sent a knife through every nerve in his abdomen and he let out a long loud scream as he collapsed. Balki barely caught him before he hit the floor.

"Balki," His words came between quick, pained breaths as he hung in Balki's arms, unable to regain his balance. "Call 911."

"This is no time for a phone call. We have to get you to the hospital!" With seemingly no effort at all he reached down and scooped Larry up in both arms, cradling him like a child.

Larry took a sharp breath, betraying the pain that the sudden change in position had caused him. He then settled humbly in place, knowing all too well that he couldn't get anywhere on his own.

By the time they reached the car Balki was becoming ever more worried. The weight of his cousin's increasingly limp body and the heat radiating from it stirred a vivid memory of the time when Dolly, one of his older sheep fell ill. He found her on the edge of the pasture by herself, burning with fever and unable to get to her feet. He had carried her seven miles to the nearest doctor but by the time they arrived it was too late. He swallowed the growing lump in his throat and prayed it wasn't too late for his cousin.

He opened the car door with his foot, gently set Larry in the passenger's seat and buckled his seatbelt. "Everything's going to be fine." Balki put a hand on Larry's shoulder, trying to keep the worry from his voice. "The doctor will know how to make you feel better. That's why he's called a doctor." Balki waited for the chastising glare but the only response he got was a vague nod. More worried than ever he jumped into the drivers seat and stomped on the accelerator.

The car raced through the empty streets and Balki's mind with it. He knew he was driving way over the speed limit and somewhere in the back of his mind he felt guilty for breaking the law. But his cousin needed help and he needed it now. What if Cousin Larry was right and it was the Mok Bokk Tokki that had made him so painfully sick? But how could that be? To his knowledge it had never harmed anyone before. Unless...unless the chicken tongue had not been pickled properly. That must be it. So it _was_ his fault. The horrible thought gnawed at his conscience but he tried desperately to push it away. He needed to concentrate on getting to the hospital.

Larry sat, doubled over in his seat, staring at the road ahead without really seeing it. With his blurred vision there was only black with two lines of orange lights flying by overhead. Even that image was beginning to fade. He couldn't believe he had let Balki talk him into eating that stuff! He should have known better! He didn't care how much Balki begged, he swore right then and there he would never ever touch Myposian food again. Then, all at once, his mind decided the pain was just too much and simply switched off. His thoughts faded away and the world turned black.

"We're going to be there soon." Balki said, trying to divide his attention between Larry and the road. He reached over to run a comforting hand through his cousin's damp hair. This time Larry didn't respond at all to the touch, which brought Balki's fear back with renewed force. "Cousin, can you hear me?"

He glanced quickly at the road and suddenly realized had to turn. He jerked the wheel, making a sharp right. The centrifugal force caused Larry, now completely unconscious, to topple over, his head landing limply in Balki's lap. With a horrified gasp panic rose up into his throat. He patted Larry's face, frantically trying to elicit some response, _any_ response. "Cousin? Cousin! COUSIN LARRY!!" Balki's breathing began to quicken along with his pulse. He tried desperately to hold back the tears that were burning his eyes and making the street ahead blurry. "Please...please don't die!" He stroked Larry's face gently, as much for his own comfort as that of his cousin's. "We're almost there."


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

The nurse sat at the receptionist desk, aimlessly tapping her pencil. It had been a fairly quiet night. She glanced around the emergency waiting room at the few patients there were. A little boy with a bad cough sat in his mother's lap; a young man with multiple piercings and in a bad need of a shave sported a black eye and cradled a broken arm; a well dressed woman sat in the corner holding a red stained towel over a possible broken nose. Other than these minor cases, the waiting room was empty.

Suddenly the front doors flew open and in burst a spectacle that gave her quite a pause. The thin man stood before her clad in a pair of wrinkled Spiderman pajamas. Stray locks of ebony hair stood out at unusual angles, obviously uncombed. His large, dark eyes spilled frightened tears that trickled down his tan, angular cheeks. He reminded her of her six-year-old when he woke up from a nightmare. The only thing that broke that analogy was the limp, ghostly pale figure that he carried effortlessly in his arms. The dead weight of the grown man didn't appear to strain him whatsoever. Perspiration glistened on the man's slack, round face and his white, overly conservative pajamas that contrasted excessively with those of his friend, clung to the dampness of his rather compact body. It didn't take a doctor to see that he was in bad shape.

The man in the Spiderman pajamas rushed up to the desk and began speaking rapidly in a language she could not even begin to identify.

She reached down to press the intercom button. "I need a stretcher out here, now." She said urgently, then turned back to the man who was still jabbering frantically at her. "I'm sorry." She shook her head and shrugged her shoulders theatrically. "I...I don't understand."

He paused and gave her a confused frown.

"Maybe we can get a translator." Knowing he couldn't understand her she tried to radiate all the sympathy and assurance she could.

The man's face lit with sudden realization. Then with heavily accented but perfectly understandable English he said: "I'm sorry. I am so worried I forget I was speaking Myposian." The short, polite apology over he instantly reverted to desperation. "Please, you've got to help my cousin!"

"Name?" The receptionist asked.

"Balki Bartokomous."

She nodded and began to scribble down the name when he added: "...and this..." He indicated the unconscious man he still held in his arms. "...is Cousin Larry."

"What's his full name?" She asked as she erased what she had just written.

"Cousin Larry Appleton."

She frowned slightly. The man's accent made the name difficult to decipher. "Is that spelled with an 'A' or an 'O'?"

"This is no time for a spelling test! Can't you see this man needs help?"

To punctuate those words the man he was carrying let out a weak moan. Balki's attention instantly snapped to Larry. "It's alright, Cousin." The man's voice cracked slightly as if he were trying to hold back a sob. "We're here at the hospital and...and they're going to help you."

Just then two men in white, a short black fellow with a moustache and a tall blonde boy who could have walked right out of a sixties surfer movie, wheeled a gurney into the waiting room. The younger one took one look at Balki and his blonde eyebrows raised in a bemused expression. Whether it was at Balki's attire or the fact that he was holding a grown man in something other than a fireman's carry with no effort at all it was hard to tell because he instantly turned all business. "Set him down here, please." He motioned to the wheeled cot.

Balki gently laid his cousin down. Larry groaned slightly, either in pain or from the sudden change in position. "Don't worry, Cousin. I'm right here." Balki assured him again, petting the side of his face as the two men began wheeling the stretcher through two doors and into the ER. They moved him into what posed as a room, but really was nothing more than a bed and a chair enclosed by a curtain. The two men lifted Larry from the gurney to the bed. As they left the young blonde man gave Balki's pajamas one last disapproving glance before disappearing through the curtain.

Balki scooted the chair close to the bed and took his cousin's limp hand. He bowed his head and touched his forehead to Larry's fingertips. "Oh, Cousin," His voice was a cracking whisper. "I am so sorry I did this to you. How can you ever forgive me?"

He lifted his head at the sound of approaching footsteps. A large man in a white lab coat stepped through the curtain. He carried a clipboard like Cousin Larry's and a small pair of wire rimmed glasses perched on the end of his nose. He dipped his head slightly to peer over the frames at Balki.

"I'm Dr. James P. Sullivan." He announced in a deep, formal voice.

"Hello. I'm Balki." Balki tried to muster up a friendly smile but it was very difficult to be cheerful when he was so worried about his friend. "Can you help my cousin?"

"That's what we're here for." He said with a curt nod as a nurse slipped in behind him and strapped a canvas cuff around Larry's arm. "So, what are his symptoms?"

Balki tore his eyes from whatever the nurse was doing to his cousin and faced the doctor. "What 'symptoms' is?"

The doctor sighed and rephrased the question. "Why is he here at the hospital?"

Balki frowned. "I bring him here."

The big man groaned and rolled his eyes heavenward then turned to the nurse for support.

Understanding the unspoken request she turned her attention from Larry's blood pressure to Balki. "What's wrong with him? _Why _did you bring him here?"

"I don' _know_ what's wrong with him! That's why I bring him here." Balki nearly broke into frustrated tears as he clamped a hand to his forehead. He was beginning to get a headache.

The doctor ran a hand down his face as if trying to wipe the irritation away. "Okay." He took a deep breath. "Let's try this another way."

"Please." Balki begged. "Any other way."

"When did you first realize there was something wrong with Mr. Appleton? And just tell us what happened from there."

Balki snapped to attention. Finally, a question that made sense! "I wake up at two, I know because I look at the clock and that's what it says, then I hear Cousin Larry and he don' sound too good. When I go in his room, (it's right across from mine) he was holding his stomach and moaning like a cat on a fence. I take his temperature and he have a fever. He tell me to go away and not to worry because it is only indigestion. But then he try to stand up, and I tell you he screamed bloody Mary. He was in too much pain to walk by himself so I carry him to the car. He lose his conscience on the way here."

"Hmmm." The doctor unbuttoned Larry's shirt and began poking and prodding his stomach. He didn't wake up but a couple of times his face pinched in reaction to the doctor's touch. "Did he eat anything unusual that could have caused this?"

Balki winced slightly as if the question had been a physical blow. "Well," He hung his head and his voice wavered. "He eat a whole plate of Mokk Bok Tokki."

Dr. Sullivan raised an eyebrow and glanced at the nurse. "Mokk Bok Tokki?"

"It's a Myposian dish." Balki explained.

"Anything unusual in it?"

"Not really." The Mypiot said with a tiny shrug. "Just a little garlic, chopped goat kidney and pickled chicken tongue."

The doctor's face grimaced in disgust while the nurse tried to suppress a gag.

Balki looked up at the large man, guilt rimming his dark eyes. "I can't vouch for the origins of the chicken tongue." He quickly turned away in shame. "I know! I know! I should have check the label."

Ignoring Balki Dr. Sullivan turned to the nurse. "Possible appendicitis. I want a white blood cell count and an abdominal x-ray. And make it snappy."

She nodded and made a hasty exit.

"And get somebody in here to change him!" He hollered after her. "We can't have these big buttons on the x-ray."

"Yes, sir!" Balki heard her reply.

"Now," The doctor began.

Balki started at the man's deep no-nonsense tone.

The doctor held a pen poised over his clipboard. "Does he have any medical conditions we should know about?"

Balki thought about it for a moment. "He throw his back away a lot."

"Is he currently taking any medication, prescribed or over-the-counter?"

"Sometimes he takes aspirin for a headache and he drinks Maalox like it's water." Balki frowned slightly. "Is that good for you? Because it seems kind of…"

"Did he take any aspirin recently?" The doctor interrupted.

"I don' think so."

"Is he allergic to anything we should know about? Latex? Tape? Anesthetics?"

Balki's eyes widened in confusion at the rapid-fire questions. "I…I don' know about any of those things. But I hear him tell Jennifer once that I give him hives."

"That doesn't surprise me." Dr. Sullivan mumbled under his breath. Aloud he said: "Well, that's it for now. I'll be back when the tests come in." And before Balki could even utter a 'thank you' he was gone.

The two orderlies returned, one of them carrying a hospital gown. Balki noticed for the first time that they had nametags pinned to their shirts. The tall blonde's tag, which he wore upside down, read 'Zach', and his shorter and darker companion's read 'Jerry'. Balki offered them a friendly 'hello' to which only the Jerry returned. The Mypiot was amazed at the speed that they stripped his cousin of his pajamas and replaced them with the thin, revealing garment. He felt a twinge of sympathy for his cousin because he knew Larry would be thoroughly embarrassed at the whole procedure had he been awake.

"So, do you like your jobs?" Balki asked them by way of friendly conversation as they slipped the hospital gown over his unconscious cousin.

"This ain't really our jobs." Jerry explained, pulling the blankets over Larry. "We're volunteers."

Balki cocked his head. "Volunteers?"

Jerry smiled slightly at the question, his white teeth contrasting pleasantly against his dark brown skin. "We don't get paid to do this."

"Oh," Balki stood up and took both of them by the hand. Jerry looked at the Mypiot in surprised amusement while Zach just seemed irritated. "That's the nicest thing I ever heard. You are truly good people. Thank you for helping my cousin."

"You're welcome." Jerry gave the young immigrant a gentle pat on the shoulder.

Zach pulled his hand away from Balki's and started for the curtain, tapping his comrade on the shoulder as he went. "Come _on_, dude! We don't have time to sit and chat."

Jerry nodded and began to follow him. "I hope your cousin will be okay."

Balki nodded solemnly. "Me too." Jerry was halfway through the curtain when Balki raised a hand. "Oh!"

The shorter man turned questioningly.

"Can anybody volunteer?"

Jerry nodded. "Sure. Just ask for a form."

"Jerry!" Balki heard Zach urge from the other side of the curtain.

"I'm comin'!" He replied irritably as he disappeared from view. "Don't lose your shirt!"

Balki moved to his cousin's side and ran a gentle hand through Larry's dark curls. He wished there was more he could do to comfort him, but kind words and a soft touch were the only things he could think of. "Did you hear that, Cousin? Those nice men are here helping the hospital for free. Isn't that thoughtful. When you're all better I think I'm going do that."

He glanced down and noticed with mild surprise a plastic band around Larry's wrist. The nurse must have put it on when he was talking to the doctor. "Hey, Cousin. Look this." He brought Larry's limp arm up to examine the object closer. "They give you a nice bracelet. It even have your name on it!"

He tried to keep the conversation light and carefree so as not to upset his cousin. But the worry and guilt never completely left his voice. How could he ever live with himself knowing what he had done to his best friend?


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

"Hello." The nurse offered casually as she returned, bringing with her a silver tray on wheels. She moved it to the right side of the bed, pulled up a stool and sat down.

Balki nodded and returned the greeting. "Are they going to help Cousin Larry yet?" He was beginning to get impatient. The whole process seemed to be taking forever and he was terrified that things would take too long and he would lose his best friend.

"We can't do anything until we know what's wrong with him." She explained calmly, tying a thick rubber band around Larry's upper arm. "We have an idea, but we need to do a couple tests to be sure." She poked around the inside of his elbow for a moment before pulling a syringe from the tray.

The chair squeaked against the floor as Balki leapt to his feet. "What that?" He stabbed a finger at the evil looking object.

"A needle." She answered coolly, holding it up for him to see.

"You going to poke him with that?!"

The woman sighed heavily. It was really too late for this. "Remember those tests I told you about?"

Balki nodded warily.

"Well, to do them we're going to need some blood samples."

His eyes widened in horrified disbelief. "You going to take his _blood_ away from him? I'm not going let you do that."

"Look," The strain of irritation was becoming apparent in her voice. "I am just going to fill these two vials." She held up a small glass container for Balki to inspect. "We need a white blood cell count to see if he has any infection in his system."

"You going to _count_ his blood cells?" The Mypiot exclaimed, a little louder than he had intended. "That will take forever. Cousin Larry needs help_ now_."

The nurse let out a groan that plainly said 'why me'. "Sir, we are not going to physically _count_ his blood cells. It is a chemical test that will not take long. And, like I said before, until these tests come through there is nothing we can do for your cousin. So the sooner you let me get back to work the sooner he will get the help he needs."

"I'm sorry." Balki sank back into his chair feeling thoroughly chastised and not a little confused. He still didn't quite understand why this must be done. He took Larry's hand in both of his. "Will it hurt him?"

"He's unconscious." She said flatly, picking up the syringe. "He won't feel a thing."

Balki squeezed Larry's hand, his face pinched as he watched the sharp point pierce his cousin's skin.

Larry took in a short breath and his eyes flickered for a second but he didn't wake up.

"It's okay, Cousin." Balki soothed even as he tried to suppress the horrible tight feeling in his chest as he watched the precious red liquid flow into the glass vial. He couldn't help wondering who had first come up with such a barbaric procedure.

The nurse finally pulled the needle out and Balki heaved a relieved sigh. She taped a piece of cotton to the spot in what he guessed was a makeshift bandaid.

"See, that wasn't so bad, was it?" She patted Larry on the hand and rose from her seat, placing the syringe and vials back onto the metal tray.

"Yes." Balki answered truthfully.

The nurse sighed condescendingly. "Well, it's over now." She said by way of goodbye as she quickly disappeared through the curtains, obviously eager to escape this particular duty.

"You alright, Cousin?" Balki asked softly, petting Larry's hand while searching his slack face for some kind of response. "That look like it hurt."

It seemed like no sooner had the nurse left then Jerry and Zach returned. "How's it going?" Jerry asked as he flipped something on the bed with his foot.

"That would depend upon what 'it' is." Balki said seriously, cocking his head slightly at the question.

Jerry chuckled and Zach just rolled his eyes. "Well, we're gonna take him down to x-rays and maybe then they'll find out what's wrong with your cousin."

"Where 'x-rays' is?" Balki was becoming increasingly frustrated. It seemed like every other thing that people spoke of here was new and confusing. Normally it didn't bother him when he was corrected or had to ask questions. But now his cousin's life was involved and he felt his own ignorance becoming a hindrance.

"It's where they take x-rays." Zach answered curtly, obviously impatient to get the task done.

Jerry turned to his coworker with a chastising glare. "You know if you were one of my kids you'd never get away with that smart mouth attitude of yours. Give the guy a break already." He turned back to Balki before Zach could reply. "An x-ray is a picture they take of a person's insides."

The horrified look on Balki's face plainly revealed the misinterpretation and the graphic image in his head.

"No, no." Jerry assured, reading the immigrant's features like a book. "Nothing like that. They've got a camera back there that can see through things."

Balki visibly relaxed. "You mean like Superman?"

"Yeah, just like that." Jerry smiled and began to push the bed out of the room.

Balki leapt to his feet at the unexpected movement. "Well, I'll be snookered!" He exclaimed, bending over to look under the bed. "It's got wheels. What will they think of next?"

He followed the two orderlies as they pushed his cousin down several sterile, unadorned hallways, turning corners he could not remember until they came finally reached their destination.

After playing with a knob on some large machine Balki was quickly ejected from the x-ray room and forced to sit in the hall while the pictures were being taken. Having to leave his cousin's side when he was so ill even for a short time frightened him.

But the x-rays did not take long and soon they were back in the curtain-enclosed room, waiting again.

Balki wasn't sure how long he sat there but it felt like an eternity before Dr. Sullivan finally returned.

With no preamble the large man got right down to business. "Just as I suspected Mr. Appleton has tested positive to appendicitis." Before Balki could so much as raise a hand in question he continued. "We will need to perform an appendectomy as soon as possible."

Balki stared blankly at the doctor for a long moment before admitting: "I have absolutely no idea what you just said."

"He needs surgery." Dr. Sullivan clarified, obviously irritated at the necessity.

Balki's face fell and hand moved to his heart. "Surgery?" His mind went instantly back to his homeland. The small, Mediterranean island of Mypos was quaint and peaceful, but it was also underdeveloped in many ways, including medical knowledge. Telling someone they needed surgery was only a fraction short of a death sentence. "Surgery?" He repeated, his voice a wavering whisper.

"It's not a big deal." The doctor insisted, Balki's panicked look moving him to explain. "We do it all the time. They'll make a small incision in the abdominal cavity and remove the appendix. It really is a minor procedure."

Then Balki was given several forms to sign, none of which he truly understood. He wished someone would sit down and explain everything to him the way Cousin Larry often did. But everyone here seemed to be in such a hurry, and yet when it came to actually getting things done whole process seemed to be painstakingly slow.

After he had signed the last piece of paper and given it to the doctor the nurse came in with another shiny, metallic tray.

"What you doing?" Balki asked cautiously.

"Putting in an IV." The woman's voice was terse as if he was already irritating her. She reached over to the tray and removed a large syringe.

"You're going poke him _again_?" Balki was instantly on his feet. "He's not a porcupine you know!"

The woman gave him an icy glare. "Sir, if you don't calm down, I'll have to ask you to wait outside."

Balki meekly lowered himself back into the chair. "I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I don't mean to shout." He said quietly. "I'm just a simple Mypiot boy. I…I don't understand everything here.. I…" He squinted and let out a small hiss through his clenched teeth as he watched his cousin get his second injection that night. He looked on in silent horror as she inserted an odd looking tube into the back of his hand, that then connected to a longer tube that attached to a bag of clear liquid hanging from a metal pole. He was dying to ask about it but he forced himself to keep quiet. She had threatened, quite clearly, to kick him out if he caused any more trouble and he had no intention of leaving his cousin's side.

When the task was finished she placed all her instruments back on the tray and stood. "The orderlies will be in shortly to take him to the operating room." She informed him before pushing her cart out of the room.

Once she was gone he stood and moved to the other side of the bed to examine the IV. It looked like a painful, extremely gruesome setup. But if it would somehow aid his cousin's recovery, he approved.

Moments later two orderlies entered the room. Balki was mildly disappointed that they weren't Zach and Jerry. An older man with streaks of gray hair and a beard moved around behind the bed and flipped off the break, while a young woman took hold of the IV stand.

"Are you taking him to the operational room?" Balki followed close behind as they wheeled the bed through the curtains and down a hallway.

"That's right." The man said, efficiently ignoring the Mypiot's mispronunciation. "You might as well go to the waiting room. He'll be awhile."

"No thank you. I want to stay with Cousin Larry."

"They won't let you in." The man stated simply as they passed a large desk. They were heading for two doors.

"Stop!" A short, husky woman rose from the desk and hurried over to them. The orderlies paused for a moment as she approached. "You." She pointed to Balki. "You can't go into the Operations Ward."

His eyes widened slightly at her demanding tone. "B…but my cousin is sick and he needs me with him."

The orderlies, realizing they were not being detained continued through the doors. Balki made a move to follow them but the woman moved in front of him, effectively blocking his path. He tried to sidestep around her but she refused to let him by. "I need to get in there." He implored, trying again to dodge her. "Please! That's my cousin in there."

"I told you, you can't go in there!" She shook an angry finger at him. "Go wait in the waiting room like everyone else."

"But I can't leave him!" Balki cried, his eyes beginning to well up with tears. "What if…what if something happens and I'm not there? I have to be with him."

"I'm sorry." She said, sounding anything but. "It's hospital policy."

"I can't let him do this by himself!" He tried once again to move around her but the stubborn little woman held up a halting hand.

"Sir, if you don't calm down I will be forced to call security."

"B…but…" Balki knew that getting himself arrested or forcibly removed form the premises would do nothing to help his cousin. His shoulders slumped and he stepped back. "Okay." He said quietly as he turned back down the hall.

Back in the ER waiting room he dropped into the nearest chair and hung his head. Fear and guilt gnawed at him, leaving his chest tight and aching. He had never been so frightened in his entire life.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

"Is he out yet?"

"You just asked me that five minutes ago." Said the young woman at the receptionist's desk. She liked the strange young man with the heavy accent and she felt sorry for him. The poor thing was so worried about his friend. It was sweet to see a man willing to show such tender emotion. However, his constant nagging was beginning to get tiresome. "I'll tell you as soon they call. I promise."

Balki managed to muster up a small smile. "Thank you." He turned and went back to his seat. He bowed his head and stared down at the speckled linoleum floor. _What's taking so long? What could they possibly be doing to him?_

"Bartokomous?"

Balki looked up at the sound of his boss's voice. "Mr. Gorply?"

Sam Gorply stood before him clad in a suit and tie and cradling his left arm. His hand was various shades of purples and blues and was about twice the size it should have been.

"What happen to your hand?" Balki asked in concern.

"Got slammed in a car door." He remarked casually, then rolled his eyes and said. "Pfff! Women! They take offense at anything." As if that was supposed to explain something. "What about you? What are you doing here? And where's Appleton? Aren't you two joined at the hip?"

Balki glanced down at his hip in confusion but decided it wasn't worth pursuing. He swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice from cracking. "Cousin Larry's in surgery."

"Really?" Gorply sat down beside Balki. There was no concern in his voice, only morbid curiosity. "What for?"

"He's having an app…an append…" Balki frowned, trying to wrap his tongue around the word. "

"Appendectomy?"

"Yeah, that. The doctor say it's a minor operation, but I really don't see what music have to do with anything. But I trust him. After all, he did take the hypocritical oath."

Gorply rolled his eyes. This was, indeed, the stupidest man he had ever met. "He meant minor as in simple, routine." He explained.

"Oh." Balki let out a small sigh of relief.

"Of course he was just saying that so you wouldn't panic."

"What you mean?"

Gorply grinned. This was going to be so much fun. "They didn't explain the procedure to you?"

"Of course they did, don' be ridiculous. The doctor say they are going to remove his index."

"That's 'appendix'." Gorply corrected. "But do you know_ how_ they remove it?"

Balki frowned. "He said something about an envision in the abnormal cavity. But I couldn't make heads or nails out of it." The immigrant paused for a long moment then looked up at his boss hopefully. "Do you know what it means?"

"Of course."

"Please tell me. I want to know what they're doing to Cousin Larry."

"Well, first they'll lay him out on this cold metal table. Then they take a scalpel…" He paused for a second and shrugged. "Ah, let's just call it what it is. They take a razor sharp knife," He couldn't hide a chuckle as Balki's eyes widened and his mouth dropped.

"Knife?" He asked in a hoarse whisper.

Gorply gave a curt nod. "Knife." He held up a fist as if holding a blade in his hand. "They'll take this big knife and slice his side open." With his uninjured hand he graphically gestured a stabbing and slicing motion.

Balki took in a horrified gasp and his face paled.

"Then they reach in grab his appendix, which is one of his organs, and hack it out."

Balki's hand went to his chest and he let out a small chocking sound and looked as if he were about to faint.

"Then they sew up the hole with a big curved needle." He held his index finger up in the shape of a hook.

Balki fairly leapt from his seat. "I can't let them do that to Cousin Larry!"

"Pipe down, Bartokomous. It has to be done." Gorply ordered curtly.

"But…but that's such a horrible thing. Why would they do this?"

"Because it would be much worse if they didn't."

"How could anything possibly be worse than that?" The distraught young man was on the verge of shouting.

"Well, your appendix is this little thing in your side about yay big." He held his fingers about two inches apart. "Usually it doesn't do much but sometimes, like in Appleton's case it gets filled with poison and swells up giving you the feeling that somebody is shoving a red hot poker into your side."

Balki took in a sharp breath and his hand moved to his side. No wonder his cousin had been in so much pain!

"And if they don't cut it out, it'll explode like a balloon and release all that poison into his body."

"So…so that why they have to make a surgery on him?" He swallowed hard, a tiny bit of hope creeping into his voice. "And that will make him better?"

"You never know about these things. It might work and it might not." Gorply said with what appeared to be an indifferent shrug.

"What…what you mean by that?"

"Well, sometimes the appendix will burst right there on the operating table. And you can probably guess what happens then."

Balki's hands balled into fists and tears rimmed his eyes. "This is all my fault!"

Gorply gazed at the Mypiot incredulously. "Your fault? How is this your fault?"

"I fix a Myposian dinner for him. And…and…" His accented voice began to crack uncontrollably. "…and I didn't know the chicken tongue went bad!!"

Gorply's nose scrunched in startled disgust, completely unmoved by the raw emotion before him. "Chicken tongue?"

"He always tell me he don't want Myposian food. Why I don't listen?!"

"Chicken tongue?" Gorply repeated. "You fed your cousin chicken tongue?"

Balki bowed his head and nodded.

After he had shook of the genuine surprise he spoke with as grave a voice as he could manage. "Don't you know that the misuse of chicken tongue is one of the leading causes of appendicitis?"

"Oh, Cousin, what have I done!" With a devastated sob Balki dropped his head into his hands.

Gorply looked down at the man sitting beside him and chuckled. He had taken a dislike to Balki the moment he had met him. Of course, he disliked most everybody, but the young foreigner especially so. The man was just too happy. Now, seeing him so disheveled and sobbing like a child gave him a deep satisfaction. Finally the idiot Mypiot was just as miserable as everybody else.

"Samuel Gorply." Called a nurse with a clipboard.

He stood, then turned to Balki. "By the way, nice PJs Bartokomous." He was still laughing as he approached the nurse.

The young woman with dark hair and a nametag that read 'Violet' gave him a funny look. "You sure are in a good mood for someone who just broke his hand."

"Ah, it's great to have a hobby." He remarked with a cryptically evil grin.

Balki sat doubled over with his face buried in his folded arms, which in turn, rested on his knees. Tears soon soaked his sleeves, turning the blue fabric a deep navy. His breath began to come in wavering gasps. The guilt was so overpowering he was certain that Comradriki, the Myposian god of friendship, had stabbed him in the heart with his Spoon of Familiarity as punishment for what he had done.

"Oh, Cousin," His voice cracked through the tears. "If you just get well I…I promise never to make Myposian food again! Just please…please get better."

He didn't know how long he had sat there in that position when a hand touched him gently on the shoulder. "Mr. Bartokomous."

Balki tried to wipe the tears from his face as he sat up to see a lovely woman with dark eyes, a mop of long curly hair and an expression of gentle concern. "Mr. Appleton is out of surgery."

He was instantly on his feet. "Is he alright? Can I see him?"

She gave him a smile that radiated reassurance. "He's going to be fine. And yes you can see him."

"Cousin?" Balki said softly as he stepped into the hospital room, this time one with real walls instead of a curtain. Larry lay quietly in the bed, his eyes closed and breathing evenly. His brown hair, although still an uncombed tangle of curls, was no longer wet from perspiration.

"The anesthesia hasn't worn off yet." The nurse said as Balki slowly approached the bed.

"Cousin?" He gently touched his cousin's forehead with the back of his fingers. He was instantly disturbed by Larry's lack of response. "But you said he's fine. Then why he is not awake yet?"

The nurse cocked her head a bit in confusion. Maybe he had not heard her. "The anesthesia hasn't worn of yet." She repeated.

Balki looked up with a perplexed frown. "What do a princess who lose her memory have to do with my cousin?"

The nurse blinked rapidly, the confusion on her face apparent. Suddenly her eyes widened in understanding. "Ooh. No." She shook her head, bouncing her nearly black curls around her face. "Anesthesia is something we gave Mr. Appleton so he would be asleep during the surgery. And he hasn't woke up from it yet."

Balki stared down at his friend's slack face. "When he wake up?"

"I'm not sure." She said honestly. "It's different with everybody." After a moment's pause she turned toward the door. "I have to go now."

"Thank you." Balki pulled her into a gracious embrace.

After overcoming her surprise at the uninitiated contact she patted him lightly on the back. "You're welcome."

After she left Balki moved over to the bed and pulled up a chair. When Larry woke up he was going to be there. He leaned on the bed and ran a hand through his cousin's hair, talking to him quietly. "That nice lady say that you are going to be fine." He swallowed hard. He was still afraid. And he knew he would be until Larry was awake and well.

It wasn't long before his eyelids began to get heavy and he found it increasingly difficult to keep his head up. The stress, lack of sleep and crying had left him physically and emotionally exhausted. He tried to fight it. He had to be there when his cousin woke up. But try as he might he slowly lost the battle, fatigue took over and soon he was fast asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

Consciousness came slowly as the anesthetic began to wear off. The first thing that reached Larry Appleton's mind was the smell of bleach and latex. Something was definitely wrong. He wasn't home. Home always smelled faintly of wool, antacid, garlic and occasionally pig snout. It was an unusual odor but it made him feel safe and secure. The cold, overly sterile ambiance he sensed now made him nervous. He shivered slightly. The sounds were not right either. If he were home he could hear the rumble and honks of cars on the street below, or the old twenty's music the downstairs neighbor always liked to play in the middle of the night. Here there were far away voices, the crisp clicks of shoes marching across a hard floor and eerie rhythmic beeps.

As the strange drowsiness faded even further he forced his eyes open and found himself staring at a white ceiling divided into rectangles.

"Mr. Appleton, you're finally awake."

He started slightly at the voice. The nurse stepped up to the bedside and instantly Larry realized he was in a hospital room. "What happened?" He asked, his voice a bit slurred from the anesthetic. "Last thing I remember Balki and I were in the car on the way here."

"You had an appendectomy." The nurse answered with a sympathetic smile. "I'm told you're quite a lucky man. You'd be in the morgue instead of the recovery room if he hadn't brought you here in the nick of time." She motioned with her hand and Larry followed the gesture to discover Balki, his head and shoulders resting on the bed while his backside still sat in the chair. His face was buried in his crossed arms and his dark tangled hair fell softly over the neck of his red and blue Spiderman pajamas.

"He's been sitting there ever since they brought you in." She said as she pressed a stethoscope to his chest. "He only fell asleep about an hour ago." After scribbling a note onto her clipboard she brought the cuff out to take his blood pressure. "You've got a good friend, there."

Larry smiled affectionately down at his slumbering cousin. "I know."

After taking several more tests the nurse left and returned moments later with the doctor. Larry was given instructions on what to do in the next few days. He was told what pain medications he was allowed to take, advised not engage in any strenuous exercise and briefed on how to tend to the incision site. After making sure all his vital signs were stable, both the doctor and nurse left him alone to rest

He looked down at Balki who's upper half still rested on the side of the bed. He had not stirred once while Larry was talking to the doctor. Resting a hand on his friend's back he wondered just what he had been through that night. He was sure that the young immigrant had little experience with American hospitals. It must have been pretty scary for him. As he leaned back on his pillow and closed his eyes he hoped that someone had taken the time to explain things to him.

His forehead creased slightly and he opened his eyes as he felt Balki's breathing change. It became heavier and quicker. His whole body tensed let out a small moan.

"Balki? Are you alright?"

Balki's reply was mostly incomprehensible. But Larry did manage to catch 'Oh, Cousin, no!' amid the jumble of slurred Myposian. With another moan he shifted a bit and turned his head toward Larry. His eyes were closed with an expression of complete anguish on his face.

Larry put a hand on his shoulder and shook him gently. "Balki, wake up. It's okay, Buddy, I'm right here."

Balki's head shook imperceptivity from side to side. "No, oh please, no!" His words then reverted back to his native language.

Larry shook him a bit harder. "You're having a nightmare. Balki, wake up!!"

Balki's eyes suddenly opened wide and with a gasp he bolted upright. For a second he looked terrified and disoriented. Then he caught sight of Larry and leapt from his chair, arms outstretched. "Cousin, you're awake!"

Larry threw out a hand to stop him. "No, no, Balki!" He shouted frantically. "Don't hug me!"

He stopped immediately, dropping his arms to his side. His face fell into a look of complete rejection. He lowered his head sadly. "I…I understand." He took a couple of steps back. "After what I did I wouldn't blame you if you never wanted to see me again."

Larry frowned, perplexed by his cousin's words. "What are you talking about?"

Balki shook his head sadly. "It's okay. If I were you I wouldn't want to hug me either."

"I didn't want you to hug me because the doctor said to be careful of the incision site. It has nothing to do with you."

"But I make you sick. The chicken tongue…"

"Balki, I had appendicitis. Your cooking could not possibly have caused it." His frown deepened and he let out a small irritated grunt. He knew his Myposian cousin could be pretty hard on himself and Larry could just imagine the pain he had put himself through. "Nobody explained this to you?!"

"Well," Balki's voice was still humble and quiet. "Not at first. But when I was waiting for you Mr. Gorply explain things to me." His forehead creased in distressed confusion. "But…but he say that it _was_ my fault."

Larry's eyes widened in surprise and anger and he sat up a little straighter. "Gorply was here? He told you that?!"

Balki nodded meekly. "Yes."

"Why that…! I can't believe he would tell you something like that." He rolled his eyes, realizing just who he was talking about. "What am I saying? Of course I believe it." He just couldn't understand how anyone could be so cruel.

Balki blinked, trying to understand just what his cousin was trying to say. "You…you mean is no true?"

"No! I already told you. It wasn't you. It wasn't your cooking. It wasn't your fault!" Larry put a restraining hand to his mouth, realizing that he had just yelled at Balki because he was mad at Gorply. He consciously softened his tone. "It wasn't your fault."

Balki let out a deep sigh as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. When he looked up his frown was more curious than sad. "I don't understand. Why he would tell me that is no true?"

"Because Gorply's a jerk that gets his kicks making other people miserable!" After a moment's pause he asked. "What was he doing here anyway?"

"A woman who take a fence slam his hand in a door." Balki squinted one eye with a look that betrayed confusion over his own words.

"Why does that not surprise me?" Larry said wryly, easily interpreting his cousin's linguistic blunder. He shook his head in irritation. "I just can't believe one of the staff couldn't take a few minutes and clear things up for you. Maybe you didn't ask enough questions."

Balki gave a small shrug. "Every time I do the doctor give me that look."

"What look?"

"The one you get when you want me to shut up."

Larry's frown deepened and Balki wished he had not said anything. He was upsetting his cousin and he was sure that it wasn't good for him in the condition he was in. "It don't matter now because you're getting better."

Larry's expression softened as he looked up at Balki. "Thanks to you."

"Me? What I did do? All I done all night is sit and worry for you."

"The nurse tells me that if you hadn't brought me here when you did I would have been in a lot of trouble." He smiled and put a grateful hand on Balki's arm. "Thanks, Buddy."

Balki smiled in return, but not because of the praise. He knew now that everything was going to be alright.

Four days later…

"Balki, I can do it myself!" Larry rose from the chair and headed into the kitchen with his dirty dishes. "You don't have to wait on me."

Balki followed close behind. "But the doctor say…"

"I hardly think putting a plate in the sink constitutes strenuous exercise." He moved to scrape the remainder of his meal in the garbage when something inside caught his eye. "Balki, what's this?" Larry held up a notebook that was covered with gold chain, sequins and Myposian kri-kri tassels.

Balki looked at it sadly. "My Myposian cookbook."

"What's it doing in the trash?"

"When you were in surgery I promise that if you got better I would never cook Myposian food again. So…so I won't be needing that anymore."

Larry gazed at the gaudily decorated book in his hands. Part of him would be glad to see it go. He always dreaded Balki's cooking and usually avoided it like the plague. After all, organs and snout didn't appeal to your typical American. (this from a man who eats hot dogs) But the other part of him knew how much Balki loved cooking, especially dishes from his home country. It was something that truly brought his friend joy and he knew very well that it would be terribly selfish to take that away from him.

He also knew that his cousin was very determined when it came to keeping his promises, so this was going to take a bit of fast talking. "Just who, exactly did you make that promise to?"

"You…I guess." Balki answered, looking a bit perplexed.

The notebook in Larry's hand jingled as he gestured. "Well, in America you can't make a promise like that to someone unless they agree with it."

Balki blinked. "You can't?"

"Of course not! I mean, you made it to me, don't you think I ought to have some kind of say?"

"Well, I…"

"So, since I wasn't conscious at the time and didn't have a chance to consent, I'm afraid that promise is annulled." He handed the overly decorated book to his bewildered cousin. A tiny voice in the back of his head screamed at him: _Are you insane? You're giving up the chance to be rid of that disgusting stuff forever!_ No. This was the right thing to do.

Balki stared at the notebook he held tightly in his hands. "Thank you, Cousin."

Larry smiled, and even as that little voice was still yelling at him he said: "I've got an idea! Why don't you whip up some ding ding machmud and I'll see if the girls want to come down for dinner tonight."

For a moment Balki just stared at him in disbelief. "You _want_ me to cook pig snout?"

"That's what I said, Balki. Please, don't make me say it again." His mouth quirked to one side. "I don't think I can."

Elation exploded across Balki's face and he bolted for the front door.

"Where are you going?"

"To the butcher! I've got to make sure he don't throw away that snout I ordered early this week." He grabbed his coat and was gone.

Larry stared at the closed for a long moment. What had he done??

THE END

**Yay! I finally finished. Please tell me what you think.**

**You can view some of the illustrations for this story on my 'homepage'.**


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